


breathing for this moment in time

by intertwiningwords



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Pain, Sort of a Songfic, Unrequited Love, but not all Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 14:45:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7645117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intertwiningwords/pseuds/intertwiningwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"heart beats harder, time escapes me, trembling hands touch skin, it makes this harder."<br/>or, melchior and otto are...something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	breathing for this moment in time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShippingEverything](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShippingEverything/gifts).



> lydia managed to corrupt me into the hell that is melchior/otto.  
> this is dedicated to them, and the person on twitter who responded, “what the actual hell man?” to one of my tweets about this ship. i said it wasn’t gonna be sad, so i guess i’m a filthy liar.  
> title from and basically inspired by “moments” by one direction!  
> enjoy! xxx

It all started in high school, at one of Bobby Maler’s parties. They were young, and drunk, and it didn’t mean shit. Or at least, that’s what Otto insisted the next day. It had only been a kiss; short and sweet. Neither of them were very good at kissing, nor very aware of the fact that they even _were_ kissing. But Otto was acting like they were adult, married men who had an affair behind their wives’ backs and could never see each other again.

  
But they did see each other again. When they went to college, it became a pastime. Melchior’s roommate Hanschen was always with his boyfriend, and Otto’s roommate Georg wasn’t one to ask questions. They would hook up at Melchior’s apartment nearly once a week.

  
“I’m not gay,” Otto would tell him sternly, “Really. I just want to get off.”

  
And then he’d smirk, take a step forward, grab Melchior’s chin, thumb stroking along his lower lip, and say, “And you have the most perfect mouth,” before kissing him.

  
He knew Otto wasn’t straight. He would have stopped coming back a long time ago if he was, but he knew Otto wasn’t ready to admit it. He probably hadn’t even come to terms with it himself. And Melchior wanted to help him. Plus, he was really hot, which helped a lot. But every night, Melchior would fall for the sweet-talking and the smile; kiss him back, sink to his knees, suck him off, spread his legs, and beg him to stay the night.

 

He almost always left.

 

“That was fucking amazing,” Otto told him breathlessly, pulling up his jeans and zipping them hastily, “but I have to go.”

  
“What?” Melchior asked. He was still on his knees, looking up at Otto, feeling incredibly pathetic for thinking Otto would be there for anything more than a blowjob.

  
“Yeah, I’m meeting this girl, Marianna, for drinks later,” Otto said casually.

  
Melchior stood up, feeling his annoyance grow red hot inside him. “Oh, really?”

  
Otto narrowed his eyes. “Yes. She’s very pretty and funny and, in case you forgot, you’re not my fucking boyfriend.”

  
“Oh, I know.” Melchior said. _‘Don’t remind me.’_ he didn’t say.

  
“Well then you have no right to get jealous of me going out on dates! Especially because I’m str-”

  
“Yes, I know, I get it. You’re straight, totally heterosexual. Well, have fun on your date. Maybe she can suck you off from now on,” Melchior replied.

  
Otto opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it. He lowered his eyes to the floor, then looked back up. “I have to go. Bye, Melchior.”

  
And simply walked right out the door.  
Melchior willed himself not to be upset. It wasn’t a big deal. If Otto was too in denial, then he wasn’t going to give a shit about him. But it was easier said than done.

  
Melchior was compulsively checking his phone all night, and he just happened to be in the mood to listen to sad music.

  
But Otto came running back three days later.

  
“She was nice, but she wasn’t as beautiful as you.”

  
Melchior melted under the praise, and fell right back into Otto’s hands.

  
He didn’t stay that night, either.

 

But sometimes, he would stay.

 

“That was…” Otto trailed off, a dazed look on his face, left breathless from the orgasm he had just had, “absolutely fucking amazing.”

  
Melchior grinned smugly, lying back against the mattress on his side, overlooking Otto’s face and down his body; his neck and chest and his come-covered stomach.

  
Otto moved to stand, and Melchior grabbed his wrist. “Where are you going?”

  
“Clean up,” he replied, “and then home, probably.”

  
Melchior’s smile faded. “You should stay the night. Neither of us have class tomorrow. Hanschen’s staying the night at Ernst’s, he never comes home before noon when he does.”

  
Otto hesitated, before sighing. “Fine. I’ll stay,” he said, lowering himself back down onto the mattress.

  
Melchior was relieved at this, but tried not to let that show. He moved closer, burying his face in Otto’s shoulder.  
Otto squirmed but didn’t pull away. After an awkward moment, he wrapped an arm around Melchior’s waist.

  
They lay in silence for a while, a rare occurrence, as both of them rarely shut up around their friends.

  
Eventually, Otto spoke up. “As nice as this is, I think I should shower,” he said, gesturing to the white substance still sticking to his skin.

  
Melchior chuckled and nodded, moving away so Otto could stand.

  
“You can join me,” Otto added offhandedly as he walked through the doorway.

  
Melchior stood up so quickly he made himself dizzy.

  
The shower was uncomfortably small, and certainly not meant for two people to be in it at the same time, let alone somebody as broad-shouldered as Otto and as tall as Melchior.

  
But they made it work, kissing as the water fell over them. It surprisingly didn’t end up with either of them on their knees; they simply stood there, arms wrapping around each other, hands running through hair…

  
“That tickles,” Otto mumbled, pushing Melchior’s hand away as fingers trailed down his side.

  
Any other time, that would have encouraged him, but he stopped and rested his hand against the other’s hip instead.

 _‘Just stay in this moment,’_ Melchior thought. _‘It might be the last time you ever get to touch him like this.’_

  
It was a bitter reminder, but Melchior was not going to fall for a guy who claimed to be straight. He understood that Otto’s parents were homophobic, he understood Otto’s fear, but if Otto could just to admit to himself that he was into guys, that would be enough. Just allow himself to be with Melchior for more than sex. They didn’t have to be boyfriends, they didn’t have to be public, they didn’t have to get fucking married.

Just...little moments, like standing together in the shower.

  
Moments of weakness, in Otto’s mind.  
After they were both clean, and ready to fall asleep standing up, they got out, climbing into Melchior’s bed. Melchior fell asleep with his head resting against Otto’s chest.

Otto knew how to make Melchior melt. He knew every word phrase or pet name that made him blush, every spot that made him moan, every way to take him apart.

  
It was almost unfair how drastically Otto could affect him.

  
Otto was not easy to break. He didn’t moan, even when there was no worry of being caught, he would muffle himself. He didn’t get flustered, and he certainly did not melt under Melchior’s touch. But, despite always being on top, he seemed to take Melchior’s lead when it came to sex.

 

Melchior was lying on his back, Otto between his legs, thrusting into him, fingers making marks where they dug into the skin of his hips.

  
“Harder, please,” Melchior begged, hands gripping the sheets, but they weren’t enough. He grabbed onto Otto’s shoulders, fingernails scratching into his skin.

  
Otto complied to Melchior’s plea.

  
Melchior moaned, eyes squeezing shut.  
“Faster,” he now asked.

  
And Otto did so.

  
Melchior was slowly coming undone, his nails scratching up and down Otto’s back, maybe breaking this skin in some places; he couldn’t tell.

  
Every breathy, desperate command Melchior seemed to have, Otto obliged.

  
“Kiss me,” Melchior told him breathlessly.

  
And so, Otto leaned down and pressed their lips together, softly at first, but becoming rougher, biting at his bottom lip.

  
Melchior cried out as he came, his lips still pressed to Otto’s.

 

But Otto could not read Melchior. He never seemed to understand what Melchior was feeling, and never seemed to care. It wasn’t like Melchior was nothing more than a sex toy to him. He cared about Melchior’s reactions, his consent, the noises he made and every twitch of his body. But outside of sex, Melchior’s emotions and thoughts were not a priority.

  
They rarely spoke of their personal lives, their pasts, their families, their dreams, even just how their days were. But sometimes Otto allowed himself to open up, and to listen.

 

“Have you ever broken a bone?”

  
“Georg broke my nose once,” Otto replied casually.

  
“What? How?” Melchior asked, giggling.

  
“We were playing basketball, he threw it too hard, I wasn’t looking...Have you?”

  
“I fractured my wrist. Moritz and I were climbing trees when we were like seven. Despite him being the clumsiest person ever, I’m the one who fell.”

  
Otto chuckled.

  
Comfortable silence fell between them for a while, Otto’s fingers running up and down Melchior’s back, making him unbelievably sleepy.

  
“You know, I love it when you tell me stuff about you,” Melchior mumbled. He was too tired to realize what he was saying, or to care.

  
“Oh, really?”

  
“Mmhmm.”

“Well, what else do you wanna know?”

  
“What’s your favorite color? How old were you when you learned to ride a bike? Do you have siblings?”

  
“Blue, six, and no siblings. You?”

  
“Purple, never did, and none.”

  
“You never learned to ride a bike?” he asked incredulously.

  
“Never,” Melchior said.

  
“I’m gonna teach you.”

  
“You don’t have t-”

  
“Nobody should go through life not being able to ride a bike.”

  
“Fine.”

 

 

They were getting worse at being kept secret.

  
Hickeys raised eyebrows and prompted questions.

  
“Who’s are these?” Hanschen would ask, grinning, pointing at the pile of clothes at the end of Melchior’s bed.

  
“Uh, mine.”

  
“No fucking way those pants would fit your skinny ass.”

  
“Rude.”

  
People began to question who Melchior could be sleeping with. Asking who Otto kept going out with it.

  
Asking, and asking, and asking.

“We can’t do this anymore,” Otto told Melchior one night.

  
He’d barged into the apartment, sounding upset and scared.

  
“Do what?”

  
“This! Whatever the fuck this is!” Otto yelled.

  
“Oh, you mean us fucking? Or does that sound too gay?”

  
“Shut up. Shut the fuck up.”

  
“Why? Afraid someone will hear us?”

  
“Melchior, please.”

  
“You want to stop?” Melchior asked. “Fine. Then just go and say the fuck away.”

  
“Melchior, it’s not that I want to stop. We have to.”

  
“But why?!”

  
“My parents will kill me. My friends will hate me. I will hate myself.” Otto said, his voice breaking.

  
“Otto, half our friends are gay. Nobody will think less of you,” Melchior told him softly, taking a step closer, moving to comfort him.

  
“Don’t touch me.”

  
Melchior drew his hand back. “Just go.”

  
“Melchior-”

  
“Go.”

  
And Otto didn’t stay.

 

Melchior could have said so much more. Comforted him, helped him, held him. But Otto didn’t want that. Otto wanted to be who his family wanted him to be.  
He dated women. He didn’t speak to Melchior. He didn’t even hold eye contact with him.

  
It fucking hurt, and Melchior couldn’t pretend it didn’t.

  
He dated people too. He didn’t speak to Otto. Stopped trying to catch his eye.  
Melchior knew he could have been so much more. He was more than a good fuck. He could have been Otto’s everything, but Otto wouldn’t have him.

  
And that wasn’t Melchior’s fault.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed this thing that i literally pulled out of my ass in the car while pokemon go wasn't working!  
> twitter: @softhernst


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